Babysitting
by agrajagthetesty
Summary: Michael seizes the shiny metal object with evident delight and promptly bites into it. Ed winces, and his eyes follow the glistening trail of saliva leading from the watch into the baby’s gummy mouth. Oneshot, with some EdScieszka and implied AlWin.


_IMPORTANT NOTE: This story combines elements from two of my series: "Colours" and "Candles". I would advise you to read those first- but "Colours" is very long. I've included a brief summary of the backstory here, in case you don't have the time to read all 55 chapters. (If you've read "Colours" and "Candles", feel free to skip to the main story. :3)_

_Al has been restored for between ten and fifteen years, although Ed was never able to get his limbs back. Al and Winry are married and live together in Risembool. Their first child, Michael, is a few months old. Scieszka and Ed have been together for about ten__ years. Scieszka lives and works in Central, and Ed spends about half his time with her. The rest of the time, he is in Risembool, or travelling the country as part of his work. Due to her geographical distance from Risembool, Scieszka has never seen Michael before. Ed, however, was present at his birth._

_I think that's everything of importance. Now, READ ON! And please review if you can.

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**Babysitting**

It is not that the baby isn't cute. Ed is not completely cold-hearted, and despite the front which he puts on, he is perfectly able to recognise this quality when he sees it. However, he never seems to be very affected by what other people call "adorable". It could be because he does like to let such brainless emotions show. It could be because he does not possess the maternal instinct necessary to get truly sentimental over little fluffy things. It could even be because watching other people dissolving into puddles at the mere sight of a baby is, frankly, embarrassing.

"Ohh, Edward, he's so cute!"

Or, he thinks resignedly to himself, it could be because he has watched this sort of scene a million times now, and he knows exactly what is coming.

Scieszka holds her thick black-rimmed spectacles above Michael's head and turns them so that they reflect the light. Michael reaches up with both hands and grabs at them; she rescues them hastily from his sticky grasp, and looks around for something more durable to give him.

Her gaze lands on Ed's pocket. "Do you… Do you think he could have your watch to play with?" she asks, and her head tilts to one side in a way that makes her almost impossible to refuse.

Wearily, he leans forward and hands it over.

Yes, he knows what is coming.

Michael seizes the shiny metal object with evident delight and promptly bites into it; Ed winces, and his eyes follow the glistening trail of saliva leading from the watch into the baby's gummy mouth.

_It won't be long..._

Scieszka coos and mumbles nonsense, rocking the tiny child in her arms, as her hand finds the chain of the watch and lifts it slightly to keep any heavy or potentially damaging parts out of his reach.

_Any second now…_

She looks up at him, laughing. "He sort of looks a little like you, you know."

The words contain the very essence of inevitability; Ed cannot prevent the groan from escaping him.

"What is it?"

"I knew you were going to say that," he mutters.

"So you think so too?"

"No!" he yells. He can't help it. He has heard this statement over and over again. Up until now, he has managed to grit his teeth and keep quiet about it- but Scieszka saying it too?

That is just _too much_.

"I … everyone who sees him says so. _Everyone._ It's ridiculous. I mean, that's not even possible."

"Yes it is," she replies at once. "I read it in a book. Characteristics can sometimes skip a generation, which means that-"

He glowers.

She stares at him in silence for a moment- and then, suddenly, she leans towards him. "Is there some reason you don't want him to look like you?"

He evades her gaze, and doesn't answer.

"There's a problem with it, isn't there?"

"It doesn't make sense," he mutters. "He's not my kid. He's not _my _kid. I don't want him to look like me. And … I don't see it."

"Don't see it? Edward, it's like these are _your_ eyes looking at me!"

"…I've never really seen his eyes properly," Ed confesses. "The first few times I saw him, he was always asleep. He would be feeding when he was awake, so…"

She shuffles up to one end of the sofa. "Come here."

Ed walks across the room and sits beside her, and she holds Michael up for him to see.

He leans towards her and peers down; the baby, still gnawing contentedly on the pocket watch, looks up and blinks curiously at him.

There is a brief silence, filled only with the sound of Michael's gums working on the metal.

"Don't you think so?" Scieszka says after a while.

"Hmm. Well, his hair isn't much like mine."

"Yes, but look at his eyes, Edward!"

"It's always his eyes they talk about," he says quietly after a small silence. "When they say he's like me. 'Just look at those eyes! He certainly didn't get them from his parents.' Like I _tried_ to make that happen."

"What else do they say is similar?" she asks, more out of curiosity than anything else.

He shrugs. "A bunch of stuff. His kick- Winry said when she was pregnant that he'd got a really strong kick, like mine. The ways he eats all the time, and how he gets angry when he's hungry. How he cries- well, he doesn't cry really, he just yells-"

He breaks off as she starts to laugh. "What?" he demands.

"Edward, he's _just like you_!"

He harrumphs, folding his arms and glaring off into the distance.

Scieszka doesn't react, concentrating on gently bouncing the child in her arms and murmuring to him under her breath.

"He's named after me," Ed says abruptly after a while.

"Really?" she says, surprised; Michael grumbles impatiently at the loss of her attention.

Ed nods. "His middle name. I didn't want that- but then Winry told me they were going to name him after either me or Dad. She was probably joking- but she could have been serious, you know?

"I think I did him a favour," he continues, staring down at the tiny boy. "I mean, what kind of a parent calls their child _Hohenheim_?"

She chuckles, and there is another short silence.

"You should hold him," she says.

His eyes widen and he backs away.

"You should hold him," she says, moving along the sofa towards him.

Backed into a corner, he begins to shake his head vigorously.

"You should hold him," she says firmly, and without even trying to convince him, she shifts the baby around with the utmost care and places him gently into Ed's arms.

He gulps, and tenses and the child's weight is transferred. "But…"

"That's it, put your hand under his head," she says, either ignoring or simply not registering his protests.

"I shouldn't be holding him," he whines.

"Of course you should: you're his uncle, Edward."

"But I'm not doing it right."

"You're doing fine. Just hold him a little closer to your chest."

"What if he doesn't like my automail?" he says even as he adjusts his hold accordingly.

"This is _Winry's_ son."

He just looks at her, expression pained.

She relents. "Edward. He's not going to burst into flames. Relax your arms- there. And please try not to look so frightened."

Ed tries. He looks down at the baby. Michael, for the first time since he has been given it, extracts the pocket watch from inside his mouth; he stares back unblinkingly.

Wide golden eyes meet wide golden eyes; they stare at each other in mutual silence.

"You've got drool on my watch, kid," Ed mutters after a long pause, gently nudging the baby's cheek with his thumb.

Scieszka smiles as she watches them. After a while, however, she decides not to tell him her thoughts. She knows from experience how unnerved he gets whenever the subject is broached, after all. _It's best not to frighten him any more than necessary, _she thinks._ For now, anyway._

…_But he really would make a great father._


End file.
